we are now in Canada, onward toward Alaska.
As we all climbed into the trucks on that sunny afternoon, we certainly felt that the universe was with us. Sure, we were starting out several hours later than we’d planned, but the weather was nice, the animals were safely in their spots, and we’d managed to fit all of the important things in the U-Haul—with a great deal of rearranging and creative positioning!!
And so we pulled away from the curb and began our journey into a new life. Bill was driving the U-Haul, which was being co-piloted by our daughter Helen and myself. Rick and his son Kevin were in our truck. We had all the of papers we needed to get the people and animals across the border—identification, a letter of permission from Kevin’s mother, truck registrations, house papers, proof of rabies vaccines, etc.
We stopped at a rest area for a picnic supper and walked and watered the dog. We tried to be patient as we sat in traffic trying to get past Seattle. We stopped just before the border to fill the gas tanks. Then we hit customs.
As we all climbed into the trucks on that sunny afternoon, we certainly felt that the universe was with us. Sure, we were starting out several hours later than we’d planned, but the weather was nice, the animals were safely in their spots, and we’d managed to fit all of the important things in the U-Haul—with a great deal of rearranging and creative positioning!!
And so we pulled away from the curb and began our journey into a new life. Bill was driving the U-Haul, which was being co-piloted by our daughter Heather and myself. Rick and his son Kevin were in our truck. We had all the of papers we needed to get the people and animals across the border—identification, a letter of permission from Kevin’s mother, truck registrations, house papers, proof of rabies vaccines, etc.
We stopped at a rest area for a picnic supper and walked and watered the dogs. We tried to be patient as we sat in traffic trying to get past Seattle. We stopped just before the border to fill the gas tanks. Then we hit customs.
We pulled up and provided our IDs. We told the guy in the booth that the truck behind us was ours and that our friend had permission to drive it. He also had the papers for the animals in the back. Mr. Customs Official didn’t seem to care much about that, though. He seemed intently focused on whether any of us in the U-Haul had any pepper spray. This was unexpected, but we kept a polite demeanor as we repeated our “no” answer over and over again to various forms of the question, “And you don’t have any pepper spray?” At the point where I was starting to wonder if I had missed an important question somewhere, we were instructed to pull forward, park the U-Haul, and proceed into the customs building. Rick, Kevin, and all of the animals seemed far less suspicious than we did, apparently, since they were waved through with barely a glance.
The three of us marched into the building. I was toting my soft briefcase style bag that had all of our papers. We were directed to a window where we were asked a series of questions in rapid-fire succession: “where are you going?” “ What are you going to do there?” “You are both going to school?” “How much money do you have?” “ How long will you be in Canada?” To the last question I was tempted to respond that while I wasn’t even in Canada yet, I had high hopes that my stay would be a very short one. I held my tongue instead. I responded that we would be in Canada only as long as it took to get through it and into Alaska. This was apparently a satisfactory answer, because we were directed to another window on the other side of the building where, astonishingly, we got to start all over with the same questions! I began to consider the possibility that we had entered the twilight zone or were on Candid Camera. When I thought I would not be able to contain my irritation any longer, our third interrogation came to an end and we were allowed to leave. We were not quite finished yet, however.
Outside examining the U-Haul was yet another friendly customs agent. He instructed Bill to open the back of the truck and me to “step back on the curb, ma’am.” As Bill slid the door up, we were hoping that our precariously piled up belongings would not come crashing down on the guy’s head. Who knows how long we’d have to stay then! Fortunately, things were wedged so tightly in there that no shifting had occurred and everything stayed where it was. Mr. Customs picked up a few things and looked them over. He turned to Bill. “I could take this whole thing apart, you know—take everything out of here,” he said. “I know you could,” Bill replied wearily. I stood there silently on the curb thinking, “Aren’t you a big, tough asshole.” Mr. Customs looked at me. “Do you have any pepper spray?” he asked. Not trusting myself to open my mouth, I simply shook my head, leaving Bill to answer with yet another “no.” After peering at us for a minute and considering whether he had asserted enough authority, he said, “Welcome to Canada. Enjoy your stay.” Oh yeah, great to be here!
We climbed back into the U-Haul only to discover that they had searched Helen’s backpack. We buckled up quickly and took off before they could change their minds and decide to tear everything apart in a hunt for that elusive pepper spray.
Thankful to be past that hurdle, we decided that since it was starting to get dark, we would look for a place to stop for the night. We had no luck so after a couple more hours; we decided to simply stop at the next rest area. Naturally, none of those appeared right away, either. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally spotted a place. We got as comfortable as we could—Bill and Inu (the dog) were on the ground behind the U-Haul, while Helen and I slept in the cab. Rick and Kevin slept in our truck. It wasn’t ideal, but at least we got some sleep and we were back on the road bright and early the next morning.
The text is written by Shari and the photos were taken by me
